


Bittersweet

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Episode: The Begotten, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the DS9 Tumblr Zine prompt "Fix it."  The way "The Begotten" was handled (and the whole Odo/Mora relationship, for that matter) has never set particularly well with me, and this fic explores that in a different way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

            Odo felt the pressure from Captain Sisko and Starfleet bearing down on him as Doctor Mora suggested that he unpack his equipment.  He didn’t want Starfleet to get involved or to disappoint the Captain… but when he looked over at the small, vulnerable Changeling that was under his care, he remembered his earlier vow to keep it safe. 

            “No,” he said roughly.  “It isn’t time to unpack your old equipment.  Don’t you listen?  Of course not.”  Odo glared at Doctor Mora.  “I realize you’re eager hurt another poor, defenseless Changeling, you’re not going to get that chance while I’m around.” 

            “You’ve got a thick skull, now,” Doctor Mora said, “although, I suppose you’ve always had one, just now its permanently solid.”

            Odo harrumphed, ignored him, and went back to encouraging the Changeling to assume another shape.  Dutifully, at the end of the day he recorded a log.  He decided against sending it right away- he might as well send his reports in weekly batches.  Purely because it seemed slightly more efficient.  For a man who strove to uphold justice and integrity, he sure was good at lying to himself. 

            When he returned to his room, he brought the Changeling with him in a mug.  He set the mug on his bedside table, sighing.  “We’ve got to make some progress soon.  Or else I don’t know what will happen.”  Idly, he touched the Changeling.  Maybe it was hopeful thinking, but he could swear that he felt something stirring against his fingers. 

            The next day, he showered and ate a quick meal out of the replicator before bringing the Changeling with him back to the laboratory they had been working in.  Happily, Doctor Mora hadn’t arrived to bother him yet. 

            “I’m a very precise man,” he told the baby Changeling, “A need for order and control seems to be very strong in our- uh, your- species.  But I’ve kept it up as best as I can despite being a solid now.”  

            Odo had decided that becoming a cylinder might the easiest shape for the baby to assume, so he gently poured it into a cylinder and watched it for a while before turning it upside down and pressing the top against the table.  He held it there for a few seconds, letting it adjust before removing the cylinder. 

            As he watched, the Changeling held the cylindrical shape for just a few seconds before losing its shape again.  It was the briefest improvement, but it was definite progress.  Odo almost whooped aloud, he was so excited to see the Changeling making progress.

            “It won’t be long now,” Odo said, crouching down to its level.  “You’re a fast learner… I’m sure you’ll outpace what I managed to learn, soon enough.  I can’t wait to really get to meet you.”

            He was so glad that his attempts to gain the Changeling’s trust had worked.  That he there was no way he’d have to resort to Doctor Mora’s tactics.  Oh, he couldn’t wait to rub it in that smug doctor’s face that he had been correct. 

            A couple hours later, Doctor Mora showed up, and by then, the Changeling had begun holding the cylindrical form for a few minutes.  He grinned unabashedly at Mora when he showed him, unsurprised that he wasn’t nearly as ecstatic as he was.

            “What the matter, Mora?” Odo mocked, “Unhappy that you won’t get your hands on this one?”

            “Stop being so childish, for once in your life, Odo,” Mora replied.  “Think things through.  Do you really think that Starfleet is going to be impressed?  It’s a cylinder, not anything they can communicate with.  You still need to move faster.”

            “Can’t you be happy about it?  Can’t you at least be quiet and not be terrible about it?” Odo asked. 

            “I don’t think that you have a lot of room to complain about people complaining, Odo,” Doctor Mora said, full of an infuriating calm.  “You can’t even be gracious to the person who turned you into everything you are today!  All you can do is complain!  I was practically a father to you!”

            “’Everything I am today?’” Odo repeated.  He was trying hard to tamp down on his anger, but he couldn’t.  “You named me ‘nothing.’  Odo’ital.  Nothing.  If you really cared, if I was really anything other than an experiment, you could have come up with something else to call me.  Something that wouldn’t remind me what I was to you and the other scientists, constantly.”

            “Pardon me for wanting to keep it consistent,” Doctor Mora said.

            “Consistency?  That’s your excuse?” Odo couldn’t believe it.  “You could have made a note of the change, or redone them.  Plus, like you said, it wasn’t like you kept particularly great notes.  You can’t keep trying to cast yourself as a father; I’ve seen how people treat their children now that I’ve left the laboratory, Mora.  Captain Sisko would never belittle his son.  Would never hurt him repeatedly.  You knew I was alive, you knew I was sentient, eventually, and still you persisted in your painful experiments.”

            “These are different circumstances,” Mora protested.  “There’s no outside pressure on him.  He’s raising his son alone, without overlords demanding results-“

            Odo stepped forward in anger, trying to intimidate him.  “If the Cardassians were holding a phaser to his head, Captain Sisko would never harm his son.  You know nothing of being a father, Mora,” he looked back at the Changeling he had been mentoring and his voice quieted.  He realized he was worried about upsetting it.  “You can leave now.  I don’t think I’ll have any further need of your help.”

            “I’ve never met a more ungrateful being,” Mora said, backing away, “If you come to your senses, I’ll be here for a few days more.”

            Odo turned his back and couldn’t relax until he heard the door open and close behind him.  Mora was gone, and much of what Odo had felt towards the man had finally been aired. 

            Time to get back to work.

            “I’m sorry about that,” Odo told it, stroking the baby Changeling pensively.  “It’s been a long time coming.  But now you’ll have a better environment to grow and learn in.”

            This time, he definitely felt the Changeling respond to him, and he smiled, feeling much better.  He watched as it began taking spherical form, all on its own, without any prompting from Odo.

            “You’re going to be a much better Changeling than I ever was,” Odo said, full of pride.  Maybe it was better that he had lost his ability to link with other Changelings.  Maybe it was possible to infect other Changelings through the link, and maybe he would have infected the baby Changeling with whatever it was that had made him defective as a Changeling. 

            After a few hours of exercises, Odo realized that the Changeling had begun to turn blue again.  His heart in his throat, he pressed on his combadge, “Odo to Doctor Bashir- meet me in the science lab right away.”

            Once he had his confirmation, he knelt down so it was at eye level.  “It’s going to be okay,” he soothed- whether he was trying to soothe himself or the Changeling more, he had no idea.  “Doctor Bashir is a very smart man, and he’ll figure it out.  Just hold on.”

            When he heard Doctor Bashir enter, he stood up and tried to appear composed.  It wouldn’t do to appear out of control. 

            “The baby Changeling has begun turning blue again,” Odo explained.

            Doctor Bashir scanned the Changeling, and Odo could tell from his face, that it wasn’t going to be good news. 

            “Its life signs are fading,” Doctor Bashir informed him, “I think the radiation damaged it in a way we don’t understand yet.” 

            “But can you heal it, doctor?” Odo said, desperation creeping into his voice despite himself.  “You have to find something.”  Doctor Bashir always found something.  He was very purposefully ignoring that whenever he had been sick as a Changeling, they had always had to return to the Founders.

            “Let’s go to the infirmary,” Doctor Bashir said, “and I’ll try to stabilize the biometric fluctuations.”        

            They rushed to the infirmary, and when they finally arrived, Doctor Bashir instructed Odo to wait outside.  Reluctantly (and mostly because he ddn’t want to make a scene), he complied with the doctor’s instructions, pacing anxiously outside the infirmary.  Whenever anyone approached him, he kept them from coming any closer with a stern glare.  He didn’t want to talk; he wanted to know the baby Changeling was going to be okay. 

            “Odo…” Odo heard Doctor Bashir’s somber voice behind him, and without looking at him, he knew the news was going to be bad.  “I’m so sorry.  There was nothing we could do.  It won’t be long now.”  Doctor Bashir set a gentle hand on Odo’s shoulder, and Odo actually let it rest there for a few moments before turning around and following him into the infirmary.

            While he had been waiting, the Changeling had turned a deep and unhealthy looking green.  He took the cylinder that was holding it and poured the Changeling into his own hands, so he could hold it one last time. 

            “Please,” he begged, his voice low and rough, “don’t die.  Please.  I was going to teach you to be a Tarkalean hawk, remember?  There were going to be so many things for us to do together.”

            Suddenly, the Changeling sunk into Odo’s hands.  In his periphery, he could hear Doctor Bashir questioning him about where it had gone, but Odo was consumed.  He could feel his body changing again- a sensation he had given up on feeling ever again.  And he could hear the barest echoes of the baby Changeling’s being, as if they were linking for only a second.  He felt a surge of emotions from the other Changeling, emotions that he couldn’t even begin to decipher.

            Ignoring Doctor Bashir’s insistent questioning, he stepped outside and felt the familiar shift as his body became something else.  A Tarkalean hawk, he soared over the heads of confused travelers, leaving his solid clothes behind. 

            He felt free again.  But now it would always be bittersweet.


End file.
